Seasons: Spring
by chelsie fan
Summary: AU young Carson and Hughes, set in 1900. The new head housemaid and the butler find themselves quite taken with each other. The feelings stirred by the heat and electricity of a springtime thunderstorm prove too compelling to resist.


**A/N This story is dedicated to the incomparable brenna-louise. If you haven't already noticed the thumbnail cover image, take a good look at it; she painted it for me! Isn't it marvelous? For a better look at it, you can go to my tumblr page - my handle there is chelsiefan71. I'm sure brenna-louise would love it if you drop her a PM here on this site or visit her tumblr page to leave fan mail to let her know how fabulous her painting is and how talented she is.**

**This is the first in a series of four fics, centered around the seasons, describing four possible ways our Chelsie could get together. Summer, autumn, and winter will follow as soon as they are ready. Brenna-louise has kindly agreed to illustrate those as well, so you're in for a real treat! Yay!**

**Spring**

**April, 1900**

Lightning flashed through the tiny window in his attic room. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The air was hot, humid, and heavy with … something – he knew not what. The storm had been threatening for some time now. He wished it would just let loose and rain already, to release everything that was being held back – the heat, the moisture, the electricity, the expectation. But fate would not give him that satisfaction.

He'd tossed and turned all night, until the wee hours. He hadn't slept well in weeks, really. The weather in Yorkshire had been unusually warm and turbulent, and spring had come early. On the occasions when he _had_ been able to drift off for a short time, he'd been awakened suddenly by bolts of lightning, claps of thunder, and the stifling heat in his small bedroom in the servants' quarters. Once his slumber had been disrupted, he'd been _kept_ awake for long hours by thoughts of the beautiful new head housemaid.

Elsie Hughes had arrived at Downton just before winter set in, and Charles Carson had been instantly captivated. The young Scottish maid had unsettled him like no other woman ever had. He'd seen pretty girls before, but Elsie was different. With her fine figure, sparkling blue eyes, and auburn tresses, she was by far the loveliest woman he'd ever met, but her beauty was only the smallest part of what attracted him to her. In the short time since she'd arrived, Mr. Carson had discovered that she was kind, bright, witty, hard-working, honest, dependable, and utterly enchanting. And all of those qualities, in addition to her physical beauty, combined perfectly to make him fall inexorably in love with her.

Watching her go about her duties made his heart swell. She was thorough, efficient, neat, and precise. Every time he caught her eye, and she smiled so sweetly at him, his knees went weak. When she spoke to him, even just a few words, his head swam and the room spun around him. He could hardly breathe in her presence.

In fact, much like Mr. Carson, every single person in the house seemed to have fallen in love with Elsie, and he marveled at her ability to disarm the family and staff alike. Lady Grantham was enormously pleased with the new addition to the staff. The young Crawley girls were taken with her, too, because she always found a few moments to linger in the nursery and play with them. Mrs. Davies, the housekeeper, was quite impressed with Elsie's work and had taken a genuine liking to her personally, as well. The younger maids respected her and worked well under her direction. And the footmen, most of whom were considerably younger than she, ogled her in a way that made Mr. Carson extremely agitated. Their flirting had, at first, stirred jealousy in his heart, but fortunately, Elsie had been quick to quash their advances. Seeing her put each young man firmly in his place had soothed Mr. Carson sufficiently such that he'd overcome the urge to box someone's ears. He'd kept a careful eye on things, but Elsie had proven more than capable of handling herself.

When he thought of Elsie, he found himself feeling guilty for not feeling guilty. The nation was at war. Lord Grantham and so many other men and young lads were off fighting in Africa, but all Mr. Carson could think about was just how grateful he was for any excuse not to be in London right now. Normally, at this time of year, he would be with the family at Grantham House, but this year was different. With His Lordship away in battle and three young daughters in her charge, Her Ladyship had elected to forego the London Season with all its festivities, which would be greatly subdued this year anyway. Mr. Carson normally enjoyed spending the Season in London, but this year it would have been torture. He felt ashamed that at such a time, with the country in crisis, his first thought was that he would be able to spend the summer in Yorkshire and not be torn from the woman who held his heart. Selfish as it might have been, however, he couldn't help feeling pleased.

Lying on his back, Mr. Carson released a sigh and threw his arm across his face. Then he rolled towards his bedside table to check the time. Even if he _could_ fall asleep now, he would need to be up and about in an hour. He opted to prepare for his day and go downstairs early.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

She lay awake – _again_ – in her room in the women's quarters and wondered if springtime in Yorkshire were always this warm, sticky, and stormy. If this were characteristic weather for spring, she thought, the coming summer would prove a real trial. She'd been told that Yorkshire's climate was mild, but she was having a hard time believing that, based on her recent experience. Before long, she grew tired of lamenting the weather, and her thoughts turned to the person who had most frequently occupied her mind and her heart since her arrival at Downton: the handsome butler.

Mr. Carson had been the first to welcome her when she'd arrived, and Elsie had been smitten immediately. A young hall boy had answered the back door and let her in, but almost immediately she'd found herself confronted by the most striking man she'd ever seen - tall, broad, dark-featured, and very, _very_ attractive. He'd greeted her, introduced himself, and asked how he might help her. Seeing his warm eyes and inviting smile, and hearing his deep, rumbling voice, she'd barely been able to remember her own name or the reason why she was there, but somehow she'd managed to convey the necessary information. He'd taken her bag, handed it off to a footman with instructions to deliver it to her new room, waited for her to remove her hat, and then helped her off with her coat. After her coat had been hung neatly on a hook near the door and her hat stowed on a shelf, he'd shown her to the housekeeper's sitting room. He'd introduced her to Mrs. Davies and then excused himself, saying how pleased he was to meet her, wishing her well, and offering his help with anything else she might need. By the time he'd disappeared back out the door to tend to his duties, she'd already lost her head, and her heart was soon to follow.

During the following weeks, Elsie had come to learn that Mr. Carson was unlike any man she'd ever known. He was handsome, caring, helpful, intelligent, good-hearted, trustworthy, serious, and completely charming. In short order, she'd fallen desperately in love with him.

Every time they met in the corridor and exchanged pleasantries, her heart fluttered, and she was barely able to form a response. A smile, a look, a word from him caused her face to heat and blush. She loved to watch him work. He was always so graceful and smooth, and his presence was commanding. As a practical woman, she would have liked to admit only to holding the butler in the highest regard, but that was not the complete truth. Elsie Hughes was not the romantic sort, but if she were honest she would have to confess that Mr. Carson made her swoon.

After a while, she determined that attempting to sleep was useless. Beryl, the kitchen maid, would soon come knocking to wake her any way, and so she rose, washed, dressed, and readied herself to face the day.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

His bedroom had been warm and stuffy, and when he arrived downstairs, he found his pantry was no better. He tugged on his collar, which seemed to be suffocating him, as he tried to shake from his mind the images of the woman who had so beguiled him. He needed fresh air and thought a short walk might clear his head. Hoping to relieve the pressure in his lungs and his head, he marched out the back door and into the courtyard where he spied the open gate.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Despite the threatening weather, she walked slowly along the path in the sticky morning air. It was just bright enough to see. Somewhere, the sun was rising, but it was hidden behind a looming wall of clouds. The storm was moving closer. The clouds were gathering, and the wind was picking up, but it would still be a little while before the rain began. As she walked, she tried to concentrate on her tasks for the day ahead and to banish any thought of the man who had so enraptured her, but her attempt was in vain and ended only in frustration.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

He hadn't gotten far before he noticed her. She was facing away and couldn't see him. He considered turning around and returning to the house, but the chance to be alone with her, away from the confines of the Abbey, was impossible for him to resist. With long, deliberate strides, he caught up to her quickly.

"Elsie?" he called to her as he approached, trying not to startle her.

"Oh! Mr. Carson!" she answered. "Good morning. I didn't expect to see anyone out this early."

"Yes, well, it was so close inside; I thought I'd take a short walk before the rain starts," he explained. "What brings you out here this morning?"

"Much the same thing, really. I couldn't sleep, so I got ready early and came out for some fresh air before the day gets too busy."

"Do you mind some company?"

"I'd like that very much, though I'm afraid we won't have long before the storm moves in. We'd better not go too far," she warned.

"I believe you're right," he agreed with a look at the sky and a nod.

They walked quietly side by side for a few moments before Mr. Carson asked, "Are you happy here, Elsie? Only, you're a long way from home, and I wonder if you might miss it."

"Yes, Mr. Carson. I'm happy here. I won't deny missing Scotland, but I've been in England long enough that I've grown to like it," Elsie assured him.

"Why did you leave your last post? Were you unhappy there?" he questioned.

"No, I had no complaints. The family who employed me moved to London. A few of the staff went with them, but most of us didn't fancy relocating to the city. I'm a farm girl, Mr. Carson. The country suits me. I sought a new situation and ended up here."

"I see. Well, Mrs. Davies is certainly pleased to have found you. She speaks highly of you. I'm glad you like it here."

"Thank you. I do like it here. The family have treated me well, and you and Mrs. Davies have been very kind. The house is pleasant, and the surrounding country is quite beautiful." Elsie paused a moment before asking, "What about _you_, Mr. Carson? I understand you've been at Downton quite a long time already. I take it _you're_ happy here."

"I have, yes, and I am. The Crawleys have been good to me. I feel a certain loyalty to them and a sense of belonging here."

"You've done well for yourself. You can be proud. To be butler of such a large house and to such an esteemed family is quite an accomplishment for someone so young."

"You flatter me, Elsie," he returned shyly.

"Flattery is not my way, Mr. Carson. I'm merely stating the truth. Service suits you. It seems you've found what you're meant to do."

"Sometimes I wonder," said Mr. Carson pensively.

"Oh?" questioned Elsie with a furrowed brow. "You've said you're happy in your position. Have you ever considered something else?"

Before he could answer, the wind picked up, and the rain started unexpectedly. Mr. Carson wrapped his arm around Elsie's waist, gallantly yet properly, and ushered her to the shelter of a nearby tree. The leaves on the edges of the tree were sparse enough that the rain came through, but the foliage was thicker near the center; in order to stay dry, they found themselves huddled very close together near the trunk. Mr. Carson had not removed his arm from Elsie's waist, and as they stood beside each other, she nestled in closer to him. She gazed up at him, and he peered down at her. He turned and took a step to stand in front of her, but kept his arm around her. Then he slid his other arm around her back to join the first one and drew her near. Elsie first placed her hands on Mr. Carson's chest and then slipped them over his shoulders and around his neck. Just as he lowered his head towards hers and she tilted her face up to meet his, a bright flash of lightning and a loud crack of thunder startled them apart. The squall intensified, and Mr. Carson looked about for more adequate shelter. Spying something suitable, he doffed his morning coat and draped it around Elsie's shoulders and back. Holding her protectively by the shoulders, he led her through the wind and the rain to the estate's greenhouse.

Once safely inside, breathless and sopping, they practically slammed the door shut behind them, closing out the fierce elements. Relieved to be inside, they both sagged back against the door to catch their breaths. After recovering for a few moments, Elsie stood upright and pushed away from the door. She made to remove Mr. Carson's morning coat from her shoulders so that she could return it to him, but he stopped her. Straightening himself, he took hold of the lapels and tugged her closer. She reached her hands up and clutched the smaller lapels of his waistcoat to steady herself.

In the sky outside, the lightning flashed and the thunder crashed. Inside the building, their eyes flashed with desire, and their bodies crashed together with urgency. Outside, the rain washed relentlessly over the glass roof and walls of the structure. Inside, their love washed over them just as insistently. The wind pounded violently without, and their hearts pounded wildly within. They kissed hungrily. All the while, their hands grasped desperately at one another, trying to draw each other closer, to hold each other more tightly. At some point, when it impeded their caressing and embracing, the sodden morning coat was tossed aside onto a nearby table. Mr. Carson turned them and pressed Elsie's back against the door. He raised her hands and held them against the glass with his own, one on each side of her head. Then he kissed her again, even more deeply. Slowly, his hands left hers and trailed along her arms, down her sides, and to her hips. Her hands moved to his chest and roamed over it sensually. When their lungs cried out for air, they pulled their faces apart only enough to breathe. His lips then began to move across her cheek and down her neck. She tilted her head and was able to nip at his ear. He concentrated his next efforts on her hair. Loosening her neat bun, he buried his fingers in her soft, wavy locks. Meanwhile, she threw her arms around his neck, and her hands played with the hair at the back of his head, her fingernails lightly scratching his scalp and neck. Finally overwhelmed by it all, she leaned her cheek against his chest, and he rested his chin atop her head, sighing deeply.

When they had calmed a bit, he led her to a battered wooden bench. The surface was rough and dirty. Casting a glance at his morning coat, which was still lying rumpled and wet on the table, he removed his waistcoat and spread it over the seat. He sat down on it, pulled her into his lap, and held her around the waist; she wrapped her arms obligingly around his shoulders. He looked at her earnestly and spoke the first words either of them had uttered since before the rain began.

"I'm in love with you, Elsie. I have been since you first arrived."

"It so happens that I've fallen love with you, too, Mr. Carson."

"Good," he murmured as he kissed his way from her chin to her jaw to her throat. "That's very convenient."

"But really, Mr. Carson," she said as he continued his ministrations. "How is this to work? You're the butler, and I'm a housemaid. We can't exactly carry on a proper courtship in our present situation, and I'm not inclined to sneak about, hiding in the hothouse. I'll not be satisfied with a few stolen kisses, delightful though they may be."

He stopped his amorous attentions and looked at her gravely. "I find your kisses very much to my liking, and the need to _steal_ them is quite objectionable and unacceptable. But we shan't need to steal _anything_ if we _change_ our present situation. Would you consider leaving service to marry me?"

She laughed. "You say that almost as though you mean it."

"I _do_ mean it, Elsie. Of course, I do. I've given it a great deal of thought." He gazed at her seriously. "Long ago, before I took my first post as footman, I loved a woman. I wanted to marry and have a family. But she didn't love me as I loved her, and she chose another man. After she'd thrown me over, I began my career in service, and the thought of a solitary life didn't bother me in the least. But it does now. I want to be with you, Elsie."

"But you've worked so hard to earn your position. You're well-respected and very good at what you do. And I know how much you love your work. You'll really give it all up?"

"I will, quite happily, if you'll have me. We can live in the village or in Ripon. We can settle anywhere you'd like. I've some money saved. It's not a lot, but it will be enough. We can run a shop ... work together and live above it. And then if ... " - he paused to smile at her, stroke her cheek, and kiss her softly - "if we're blessed with a family ... Well, it would be a convenient arrangement, and it could all work very nicely. I promise I'll take good care of you. Please say yes, love." He drew her hand to his lips and kissed it repeatedly, while boring deep into her eyes with his own.

"You're serious!" she cried, tears beginning to collect in the corners of her eyes.

"I am. _Very_ serious. But I know how hard you've worked, too. And it would be selfish of me if I didn't tell you how impressed Mrs. Davies is with you. She's already got her eye on you as her replacement. As you know, she's getting on, and it won't be long before you'll be housekeeper of Downton, if you stay. That will be quite an accomplishment, and I won't deny you the chance, if you want it. It's only fair I tell you all this, though I hope it won't sway you from accepting me. You'd make an excellent housekeeper, but you'll make an even better wife. So what about it, Elsie? Are you determined to remain in service, or are you willing to consider a different life ... with me?"

She regarded him intently, drew in a deep breath, and released it. "When I first came here, I was walking out with a farmer ... " she began.

"A Mr. Burns?" he interrupted.

"How did you know?"

"Elsie, I've just told you. I've been in love with you from the moment you arrived. Do you not think I've paid attention to the post and noticed his letters to you? But they stopped coming after a few weeks."

"He'd asked me to marry him, and I told him no. I've done well for myself, and I like it here."

"So you've no desire to marry?" he asked, looking crestfallen.

"I've no desire to marry _him_," she clarified. "I might have been happy with him … if I'd never met _you_. When I turned him down, I'd no idea if you returned my feelings, but knew I couldn't marry him, because my heart belonged to you. And it always will. I'd be content to spend the rest of my life working here, by your side. But if you're certain about leaving, and if your proposal is in earnest, then I think I should prefer to marry you."

"Honestly?" His eyes went wide with wonder and a smile spread across his lips.

"I wouldn't joke about it, Mr. Carson!"

"Then I think you should call me 'Charles,' and I think you should kiss me again."

"I would like that very much ... _Charles_." And kiss him she did, enthusiastically and unremittingly.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The butler and head housemaid gave their notice, and suitable replacements were found and trained. Elsie and Charles were married in the village church. With their combined savings, the Carsons bought a small tea shop and lived in the rooms above it. At first, finances were tight. In order to earn some extra money, Elsie took in laundry and did some sewing and mending in her spare time, and Charles did odd jobs around the village when he could. Before long, though, business improved, the tea shop became successful, and Elsie found herself expecting a child. When their son was born, Elsie wanted to name the boy after his father, but Charles convinced her to call him Elliott, because he so resembled his mother. Two years later, however, when Elsie gave birth to a daughter whose likeness to her father was undeniable, Charles needed little persuasion to comply with his wife's request to call the girl Charlotte.

Charles was a shrewd businessman; he formed profitable partnerships and made prudent investments with others in the community. He provided well for his family, and the Carsons were able to live comfortably, though certainly not extravagantly. As they grew and thrived, Elliott and Charlotte brought their parents great joy. Charles and Elsie continued to find endless happiness in each other and in their children, and both recalled with great fondness that fateful spring day when a fortuitous rainstorm had such pleasant and profound results.

**A/N Please leave a review, and don't forget to drop brenna-louise a line! Thank you for reading!**


End file.
